


Get the Facts Straight

by Udunie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-01-25 03:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12521788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: “Is there a problem, sir?” the boy asked him, with a note in his voice that said ‘there better not be.’ Oh. Interesting.Peter bit back the instinctive ‘Are you sure you’re in the right place?’ on his tongue...Yeah, no. He wouldn’t be that cliche, thank you very much... he prefered to leave dynamism to the plebs.“Sti… how do you pronounce that?” he asked finally, making the kid’s eyes go round with surprise. He went red as every single person turned to look at him, and Peter tried to act like he didn’t find it charming.“Um. It’s Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.”Peter nodded and made the checkmark.This would be an interesting year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mysenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/gifts).



> This is the first of the five fics I've offered at the Fandom Loves Puerto Rico auctions!   
> (and as you can see, I'm already waaaay over the promised 1000-1500 words LOL)
> 
> This fic was prompted by the lovely Mysenia, and betaed by my wonderful Emma! <3

Peter was late as usual, if ‘usual’ could be applied to the first class of the semester. Not like he particularly cared; the little assholes would learn soon enough how things were run in his classroom.

“Good morning, children,” he said as he strolled through the doors of the lecture hall, taking the coffee from Derek’s hand without even looking up. He would have all the time in the world to look at all the fresh faced eyesores during the year. More time than he would like, probably.

“I’m professor Peter Hale,” he started after taking a sip. Just the right amount of sugar - he always told Derek to put less in it, and his nephew never failed to try to fuck up the order, making it  _ just  _ right. “And this is my teaching assistant, Derek Hale. No, it’s not a coincidence, it’s shameless nepotism. If you have a problem with it, you can go right to the Talia Hale Administration Building and try to find anyone who cares.”

There was a bit of murmur, but it was 8 am, which probably helped the little horrors swallow their potential outrage.

The syllabus was already pulled up on the computer, the black letters stark against the wall. Peter squinted as he tried to get out of the way of the projector.

“All right, people. This is Law 101 otherwise known as Law and the US Constitution in Global History. If you’re in the wrong room, this is your last chance to get out.”

The room was silent, so Peter rooted around in his briefcase for the attendance list he printed yesterday. He haven’t even had the time to look it over. Or, well. He didn’t bother.

“You can see the syllabus on the wall and my TA is handing out paper copies right now,” he continued. Derek huffed and started on it like a grumpy puppy. 

“Alright, let’s get to it.”

He read the names, making checkmarks. Attendance was not part of the grading for his classes so it wasn’t exactly ethical but he made a point of downgrading people who didn’t show up for the first lecture…

There were about one hundred people registered, so it took him a bit of time to get even near the bottom.

“Stern, Arnold.”

“Here!”

Peter checked  _ Stern, Arnold (A) _ and then… paused.

The next name on the list was  _ Stilinski, Stiles (O) _ . That was unusual to say the least. 

A first, actually. 

Then again, the College got desegregated only a few years ago, and omegas were popping up here-and-there, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Though, let's be honest, Law wasn’t exactly a field they seemed to flock to.

He looked up, trying to ignore his nephew staring at him with an eyebrow raised at the pause.

It didn’t take him long to find Stilinski, Stiles. The kid was sitting in the middle of the auditorium and despite the hall being pretty packed, there were a few empty chairs around him, like all the Alphas, and the few betas on the course couldn’t quite figure out what to make of him. The omega was sitting stiffly, his eyes narrowed as he caught Peter’s gaze, like he was already expecting whatever was going to come out of his mouth.

“Is there a problem, sir?” the boy asked him, with a note in his voice that said ‘there better not be.’ Oh.  _ Interesting _ .

Peter bit back the instinctive ‘Are you sure you’re in the right place?’ on his tongue...

Yeah, no. He wouldn’t be that cliche, thank you very much... he prefered to leave dynamism to the plebs.

“Sti… how do you pronounce that?” he asked finally, making the kid’s eyes go round with surprise. He went red as every single person turned to look at him, and Peter tried to act like he didn’t find it charming.

“Um. It’s Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.”

Peter nodded and made the checkmark.

This would be an interesting year.

***

Peter expected that his unusual pupil would bring his own, unusual problems. He was disappointingly right.

“The ratification of the Bill of Rights-” he started, only to be interrupted. 

For the record, he didn’t like to be interrupted.

“Oh, I have somewhere for you to put your knot,” Stilinski growled, loud and clear, half turned in his seat towards the Alphas sitting behind him, “you’ll even have room to spare.” He picked up his small, plastic pencil sharpener and threw it at the slightly smaller guy, hitting him right between the eyebrows. The Alpha made a shocked little sound, and Peter felt zero sympathy as he watched him fall over with his chair.

“Anderson, Parker… for god’s sake,” Peter said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s only the third week.”

Anderson - the bigger of the two, who got in on some sport scholarship or the other - leaned back in his chair, grinning, though there was a slightly nervous glint to his eyes as he looked at the omega still fuming. 

“Come on, Professor Hale, it’s not our fault; he’s just too distracting.”

Peter gave him a look that froze the grin right off his face before turning to his nephew.

“Derek, please remind me to volunteer Anderson and Parker for that study Doctor Deaton is doing over at the psychology department,” he said.

Derek nodded, marking something on his paperwork.

“The thing about the  _ Inherent Infantilism and Fragility in the Alpha Dynamic _ ?”

“That’s the one,” Peter said as the class erupted into laughter.

Of course, Anderson and Parker - who managed to get back on his chair - were not so cheerful anymore. Just as well. Peter had quite enough of listening to them snickering on dirty omega jokes.

“Don’t look so dejected gentlemen, you’ve reverted back to preschool level in only three weeks - that has to be a record, it’s only fair to offer you up on the altar of science,” Peter told them dismissively. Then he nodded to the omega, who didn’t look any less angry, but at least now he had a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. “And you, Mr. Stilinski, please pack up and move to the front row. If anyone feels like they need to share a joke with you I would loath to be out of earshot. I need more laughter in my life.”

The boy held his eyes for a moment, obviously not happy about being singled out, and while Peter got his money even if all his pupils failed their exams, he actually preferred to finish the curriculum. 

Peter waited him out with an arched eyebrow.

“Move it, Stilinski, I would like to get to the exciting part, and we both know the only exciting part of this lecture is the end of it.”

The boy’s lips twitched and then he relented, closing his laptop. The first row was mostly empty, and he took a place front and center. 

“I don’t need your protection,” the omega murmured, low enough that only Derek and him could catch it.

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Good, because you couldn’t afford it,” he said before turning back to the board. “Right. Now, back to the Bill of Rights…”

***

Peter held his office hours in a cafe loosely attached to the back of the library. Technically it  _ was  _ on campus, and it wasn’t like his colleagues were prone to complaining about him not being in his actual room. Apparently having a sister who was not only the governor of the state, but also the biggest patron of the college evoked some jealousy. Who knew?

He didn’t mind it. The law department was stuffy and full of pheromone ridden Alphas looking for a fight on every corner. He liked to consider posturing like that beneath him… Sure, some would say he was one of those Alphas too, but unlike them, he had a lucrative legal practice that provided him with ample opportunities to beat others down in the courtroom. Even if only by proxy.

Peter was sitting in his usual booth on a Wednesday afternoon, marking papers with Derek when Stilinski showed up. He turned a few heads as he entered, though it wasn’t because he was dressed inappropriately; not in those horrible, baggy sweatpants and that disgusting, washed out plaid… Peter got a headache just looking at him. No matter how many times he faced students in their actual pajamas, the horror of coming across bad fashion taste never quite eased.

But still, Peter was used to omegas wearing pheromone negating deodorants in professional settings. Stilinski…  _ Stiles  _ didn’t, and as soon as the door of the cafe closed behind him the whole place was filled with the sweet, spicy scent of his body.

“Heeey, Professor Hale,” he said, making his way over. He looked a bit out of place and a bit fidgety, but Peter came to realize that was a feature, not a bug.

“Mr. Stilinski, have a seat,” Peter offered, motioning at the chair at the end of the table. “What can I help you with?”

Stiles sat down, throwing his backpack on the floor. Something clattered in it alarmingly, but he didn’t seem to care. Derek didn’t even look up from his papers, though Peter did notice his nostrils twitch as he took in the omega’s scent.

Before the boy could open his mouth the waitress - a middle aged beta woman - cut him off.

“Hello there, sweetie, what can I get you?” 

To his credit, Stiles didn’t comment on the endearment, other than a muscle jumping in his jaw. Peter had to admit that he liked people who knew when to pick a fight.

“Um. Nothing, thanks, I-”

“He will have a latte,” Peter interrupted, waving her away. 

“The owner said I only get to keep the booth reserved if the students are buying,” he explained to Stiles. “It’s on me.”

The boy frowned, and even Derek paused in his marking to glance up at them. Sure, that was the unwritten rule, but Peter usually didn’t make a habit of paying for the drinks. Thankfully his nephew knew him enough to keep his mouth shut. Peter always had a reason for saying things, even if they didn’t make sense at the time. Especially when they didn’t.

“Well, if you’re sure…” Stiles said finally, and Peter suspected the easy acceptance had more to do with being a piss-poor college student in need of caffeine at all times than a lack of pride.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. What do you need, Mr. Stilinski?”

“I’m here about the group project?” he said. He had a lovely, mobile pink mouth that made Peter’s brain go to places it definitely shouldn’t.

“What about it? Derek put up the group listings yesterday…” 

Stiles bobbed his head, looking at Peter expectantly, frowning when no clarification followed.

“Okaaay, but I’m not on it? I mean, what the hell? Is this some bullshit about…”

Oh.

“Derek, did you not send out the email? I told you to send an email to Mr. Stilinski,” Peter said. He fucking  _ dictated  _ that letter to make sure it didn’t come off patronizing - god knew his nephew and ‘words’ didn’t mingle well.

Derek shrugged, crossing something out with a red marker so thickly that Peter was pretty sure the ink would bleed through to the page underneath.

“Nope, sorry,” Derek told him absentmindedly.

“You’re absolutely  _ useless _ . I don’t even know why I keep you around.”

“Shameless nepotism,” Derek deadpanned, making Stiles snort.

“So, what email?” the boy asked, taking his latte from the waitress and slurping it with a blissed out expression. Peter idly wondered if he would look even half as reverent in bed… And he had the unfortunate feeling that he didn’t manage to wipe off the hungry expression from his face by the time the boy looked at him again. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

Oops.

“Well, Mr. Stilinski, I’ve considered the atmosphere in class,” Peter said with a sigh. Honestly, it hasn't been nice. He had Stiles sit in the front row to make sure he wasn’t harassed - if only so he could hold his lecture in peace - but he and Derek were aware of all the snide remarks and slurs flying around when the Alpha students thought they wouldn’t be overheard. For his part, the omega seemed to hold his ground well, having comebacks sharp enough to cut lesser people in half, but...

“And to be frank, I wouldn’t trust those little assholes not to do something nasty under the pretence of ‘working’ with you.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, and there was absolutely no fear in his gaze as he leaned into Peter’s personal space to hiss at him. Sure, he gave the impression of an angry kitten at most - what with that delicious smell clinging to him - but the poor thing did try to be intimidating.

“I told you, I don’t need your protection.”

Peter tried to ignore Derek holding back his laughter. He would have called him out if he thought he was having fun on Stiles’ expense, but he had the awful suspicion that somehow he was the butt of this joke. Unacceptable.

“Good to know, Mr. Stilinski. Let’s be clear here, I’m not exactly eager to go out of my way to accommodate you,” Peter sneered. “But if you get hazed to death by a ramen smelling imbecile, it will be  _ me  _ getting grilled by the dean about it. This job is dreadful enough without ‘accessory for murder’ being written on my forehead.”

Stiles leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Oh my god! Why are you even teaching if you hate it so much?”

Peter gave him his patented ‘I thought you are smarter than this’ look.

“Because my sister is a politician who has a whole ‘Family First’ thing with her bazzilion children and supportive omega mate going on, and for some reason she thinks ‘my brother is a college professor educating the next generation with a law practice on the side’ sounds better than ‘my brother just had the charges dismissed on that mob boss implicated in seven different murders’,” Peter shot back.

Stiles blinked.

“ _ Wait _ , you were the lawyer of that guy?” 

Peter wanted to say that he didn’t enjoy the reluctant awe in the boy’s voice, but if there was a person he didn’t usually lie to, it was himself.

“I was merely his legal consultant,” he said with a smirk. “I didn’t take one step into the courtroom… it’s a big difference.”

Stiles snorted. It was a very un-omegalike sound, but Peter liked it.

“The difference being your name not appearing in the papers.”

“Exactly.”

God, he loved it when someone was keeping up with him.

Stiles shook his head, but at least it looked like his previous outrage was forgotten.

“So what am I supposed to do? With the project, I mean.”

Peter kicked Derek under the table until he finally looked up.

“You, Mr. Stilinski, are going to do the project with my dear nephew,” he said.

Derek sighed like they haven’t already talked about this. 

“Yes, Peter,” he said obediently, shooting a look at Stiles that made him burst out laughing.

“Okay. Okay, I can work with that… but only if I’m calling the shots,” the omega said. He seemed to be dedicated to earning his credits, and if nothing else, Peter appreciated the balls.

“That’s okay, he’s used to being bossed around,” Peter offered, making Stiles grin.

***

The door barely closed behind Stiles when Peter kicked his nephew under the table again.

“What the hell was that all about? You  _ forgot  _ the email? Wait until your mother hears about this,” Peter told him.

Derek gave him a withering look. “Don’t reverse Malfoy me, Uncle Peter… And anyway, what if  _ I _ tell her about this?”

What.

“About what?”

Derek propped his chin up, fluttering his lashes.

“Oh, mom! I saw Peter talking to an omega today! He bought him a coffee! He told him all about what a bigshot lawyer he is!”

“Oh, shut up,” Peter growled.

He hated his family.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo guys!  
> I'm sorry for the long wait, I had to deal with some personal shit, but it's here now, and i hope you guys will like it! :D
> 
> All my love to the wonderful Emma! <3

Peter wasn’t proud of how relieved he was when Derek didn’t actually follow up on his threat. It wasn’t that he was  _ afraid  _ of Talia per se, but there were few people in front of whom he could get embarrassed, and his sister just happened to be one of them.

And anyway, there was no basis to these… allegations. He was perfectly happy being single, thank you very much, no matter what his nephew implied or his sister wanted to believe.

Stiles was just a… welcome change to the norm of dealing with bull-headed Alpha students who were always convinced that they knew everything despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Not like… not like Stiles behaved like a traditional omega either. Or at least not the way the media wanted them to believe how traditional omegas behaved. 

He was assertive and ambitious. He was smart and witty and…

Shit.

***

They were having another quiet afternoon at the coffee shop with Derek when Peter looked out the window to distract himself from the truly horrendous essays he was marking only to see Stiles heading towards the door.

He probably made a sound of some sort, because Derek looked up too, following his gaze.

“Ah, he’s late,” his nephew commented, starting to put his own stack of tests away to clear some space on the table.

Peter was starting to have a horrible feeling about this. “Late for what?”

“You made me work with him on the project, remember?” Derek asked innocently. Or as innocently as a stubble covered Alpha with a chronic case of resting bitch-face could.

“Not here!” Peter hissed at him in the second before the boy entered, but his nephew only shrugged.

“This is our office, isn’t it? I can’t really take an unmated omega to my place, Uncle Peter, that would be  _ unseemly _ .”

Peter bit off the emphatic ‘fuck you’ on his tongue when Stiles got into hearing range.

***

The following month had been… challenging. Peter would have liked to think that he was above all the ‘Alpha posturing’ and ‘baser instincts’ people insisted on his dynamic having, but. 

Stiles was getting under his skin. He was seriously considering just… eliminating the whole group project thing from the curriculum, because he wasn’t sure he could survive another afternoon in the coffee shop watching as Stiles bossed Derek around while he sucked on a pen.

Was that  _ really  _ necessary? He appreciated oral fixation in his porn, but to be subject to it on a daily basis in a public setting was too much to take.

And the stupid boy - probably thankfully - seemed to be completely unaware of the impact he was having. Just as he should be. If Talia was concerned about Peter coming out as a big-shot lawyer, she definitely wouldn’t have liked the scandal of him getting involved with a student, what with the whole ‘Family First’ image.

“Have you managed to write up those notes about the Federalist no. 84?” Stiles asked, leaning back in his chair and throwing a highlighter cap in the air, only to catch it with his mouth. 

Peter squeezed his pen hard enough that he could hear the cheap plastic creak for mercy.

Derek pulled a sheet of paper from his backpack, handing it over without looking away from the book he was reading. Peter had to give it to him - his nephew was surprisingly good at multitasking.

“Woo, good job, big guy,” Stiles told him, skimming over the page. Peter rolled his eyes.

“He wrote his thesis on the Federalist papers, he could pull it out of his ass,” he said. Not like he wanted to diminish Derek’s help for some reason. That would be below him.

Derek huffed out a breath of annoyance, but didn’t dignify him with an answer. Stiles on the other hand arched an eyebrow at him.

“Seriously? I thought Alphas weren’t really into that,” he said with a cheeky grin, making the breath stutter in Peter’s chest. He might have been silent for a second too long, because the smile fell of the omega’s face. “You know, I mean  _ butt stuff _ … Pulling… pulling things out of their assholes? Or, hey, putting them in for that matter! I imagine they would need to put it in in order to be able to… Not that there’s anything wrong with Alphas who are into that! I was just-”

Okay yeah, that went from flirty to awkward way too fast.

Peter buried his face in his hands.

“Yes, I get it. We all get it, please stop.”

“Right,” Stiles said, hitting Derek over the head with his notebook when his nephew couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer.

***

“You know,” Derek said after one more of their torturous study sessions with Stiles was over, “He’s not a law student, he’s only taking Law 101 as an elective.”

Peter hummed under his breath, letting the lock on his briefcase slide into place with a satisfying click. “And why should I care about that?” he asked.

He knew why he should care. He didn’t like that Derek knew why he should, though.

“Duh. You’re not usually this dense, Uncle Peter… Is it the hormones?” his nephew asked with a shit-eating-grin, barely managing to jump out of his way as he swatted at the insolent little brat. Derek bumped into a - thankfully - empty table, but the commotion still managed to get every eye still in the shop at them.

“Shut up,” Peter hissed.

Derek was enjoying this way too much.

“I mean, after he takes his exam he will no longer be your student… He told me about his course plan, and there’s not a single thing on it that you teach.”

Peter was just opening his mouth to argue when Stiles burst through the door, stopping them dead in their tracks.

“Hey! Shit, I left my notebook,” he said, a bit out of breath. He snatched it up from the table with a victorious little shout before assessing the situation; namely that Peter seemed to be in the middle of chasing his nephew around the coffee shop.

“Um. What’s going on?” Stiles asked nobody in particular.

Peter replied before Derek could blurt out something potentially devastating.

“Someone needs their ass beat, is what’s happening,” he growled.

Stiles snorted, and then had the gall to  _ wink  _ at him.

“Oooh! Is it me?”

Peter - in a moment of rare, complete shock - gaped at him, making Stiles bark out a laugh.

“See you guys tomorrow!”

To his horror he only managed to close his mouth after the boy was out the door.

“That was really smoo-”

“Not a word, Derek, or god help me, I  _ will  _ kill you.”

***

The end of the semester was looming closer and closer, and Peter - after a night spent with drinking and fucking a casual acquaintance (and coming out from both of those things with a headache and no satisfaction) - had to come to grips with his situation.

It was Derek and Stiles’ last study session, and he’d been nursing a coffee all afternoon, hoping to cure his hangover somehow.

“Okay, that’s it,” Stiles said, snapping his laptop closed with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ve sent you the email with my - with our - paper, Prof. Hale. It’s pretty good if I say so myself, but I’m expecting an A in any case, if not for the quality, then out of-”

“Shameless nepotism,” Peter and Derek said at the same time, making Stiles grin.

“Right.”

There was a second of hesitation, the boy’s lean fingers idly drumming on the table. Peter had a hard time looking away from them.

“So. I guess I should be going,” he said, with an air of forced levity.

“Derek, step outside for a second,” Peter said, his voice a bit closer to a growl than it was proper. He was blaming the hangover for that.

Stiles jerked, looking at him with those sweet, dark eyes filled with uncertainty. 

His nephew chewed on the straw in his iced coffee, not moving a muscle. Peter could still see the mirth in his eyes, and he wasn’t fond of it.

“And why would I do that, Uncle Peter?” he asked, slurping noisily. He looked like he was settling in for a show, and he wasn’t about to give him that.

“Maybe check if the Camaro you couldn’t have paid for with your TA salary is still there,” Peter offered, letting his eyes flash red for a second. It wasn’t something he pulled often - especially not on his family - but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Derek made a disgruntled sound and finally got off his ass, but Peter didn’t take his gaze off him until he was safely out the door.

When he looked at Stiles again, the boy was licking his lips.

“Okay. Okay, that was hot,” the boy said, a bit breathless, with his cheeks flushed.

He - almost - threw Peter off track again, but for once he didn’t let himself get too distracted.

“What, this?” he asked, flashing them again. It was… sort of a power-move, something to assert dominance, and other than a few choice omegas he didn’t think anyone liked to be subjected to it.

Stiles bit off a noise that was hard to define.

“Uh, yeah. That.”

Peter grinned.

“Was it hot enough to get me a date?”

Stiles blinked at him, like his brain suddenly stopped processing.

“Wait. You mean, with  _ me _ ?”

Peter rolled his eyes, putting on his best smile.

“Yes, Stiles, with you.  _ After  _ your Law 101 exam, obviously.”

In the second it took the boy to digest that information Peter’s brain was already running away with the possibilities. He always had contingency plans for every possible outcome, but somehow he was coming up blank now. Oh, he knew that Stiles was attracted - his smell alone was enough of a clue, however small the shift was since he started regularly coming to the coffee shop - but well. There was no guarantee that he wasn’t fancying Derek, for example. No guarantee other than the stubborn, irrational conviction in Peter that it couldn’t be. He loved his nephew dearly, but just the thought of him getting together with Stiles was enough to make him fantasize of murder, no matter the consequences.

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked, and annoyingly enough, Peter couldn’t tell what his awed tone was implying. So he just rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Stiles. I’m serious. I just asked you on a date.”

“With  _ you _ ? Like a  _ real  _ date?”

Peter really didn’t know how much more his nerves could take.

“Yes. Answer. Now.”

Stiles swallowed, and his eyes followed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his long, pale throat.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” the boy said finally, his face taken over by a slow grin that lit something in Peter on fire.

“Good.”

***

Even at his best, Peter usually could barely wait for the Law 101 exam, if for nothing else, than because it meant getting rid of the idiots in his class. If only for a few weeks before the madness started again.

This semester, he was pretty much counting the seconds to the day.

Derek - after some ‘gentle’ prodding - volunteered to mark the exams himself, so Peter could take Stiles out right after. They hadn’t set a concrete time and place for their date yet, but going by the looks the boy had been giving him during the last few lessons, Peter felt confident that Stiles wouldn’t mind them… jumping on the opportunity.

“Alright, people. You have two hours to finish the exam. I hope you all went to the bathroom beforehand, because there will be no leaving until the time is up. I don’t care if you soil yourself, rest assured, you won’t be the first,” Peter said as he surveyed the class. 

Stiles, as always, was sitting up front, looking antsy to get it over with, fidgeting with his pen. Peter could understand the sentiment… It was probably only his imagination acting up, but the boy smelt even more alluring than usual, and all he wanted to be two fucking hours later so he could get his hands on him.

When the room finally fell silent, Peter checked his watch, nodding at Derek to start handing out the test.

“Aaaaand… Go!”

***

Peter wasn’t surprised that Stiles was the first one to finish - exactly fifty minutes after the clock started ticking - he already knew that the boy could be incredibly fast and to the point when he managed to get focused on something.

But there was still more than one - torturous - hour left, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just up and leave. Peter had a hard time looking away from Stiles… There was something in the curve of his shoulders, or maybe in the line of his neck that grabbed his attention and just wouldn’t let it go.

The boy blushed when he caught Peter looking, and the way he averted his eyes just made Peter want to take him home and ravish him.

Derek was fidgeting beside him, but Peter barely spared him a glance. His nephew was nowhere near as interesting as Stiles, not even with the gigantic frown on his face.

The boy licked his lips, looking at Peter straight on, and he was shocked to realize he was already hard.

Fuck. What a little tease.

“Peter,” Derek hissed, leaning over, and he had to fight the urge not to snarl at him. That was an unusual reaction, even considering how annoying Derek could be.

“What?” he growled back, irritated that he had to take his eyes off Stiles even for one second. He immediately sobered up when he realized that his nephew looked positively panicked.

“Shit, it already got to you… can’t you smell it?” he asked in a hushed whisper that sounded like shouting for Peter’s ears.

What? What the hell should he…

Oh.

Peter looked over the students, and noticed the two idiot Alphas who caused Stiles so much grief watching the boy - his boy - with glassy eyes, their tests forgotten. He could barely hold himself back from lunging at them.

Yes. Yes, he could smell it now. Or no, he could smell it for a while now, probably, but he only managed to identify it now.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of an omega in heat.

Peter’s eyes snapped back to Stiles. He was still flushed, but now he was looking closer to feverish than simply flustered, and from the puzzled look he was giving Peter… the stupid boy hadn’t yet clued on into what was happening with his body.

He stood up, not even caring that his erection was probably showing. Nobody in the room was looking at him anyway.

“Mr. Stilinski,” he said, voice raspy enough that he had to clear his throat a few times. “Are you finished?”

Stiles blinked - slower than he should have - like he wasn’t comprehending a word, but then nodded his head.

“Good, Derek, take his paper, I will…”

Derek snatched the test from Stiles while standing as far away as possible.

“You will take him to the infirmary, where they have a  _ heatroom _ ,” his nephew dictated, kicking Peter’s brain back on track.

Right. Heatroom.

Stiles frowned, then shifted in his seat and then… went pale as a sheet.

***

Thank god it was the exam period, because campus wasn’t as crowded as usually, and so there weren’t that many people around Peter had to snarl at as they crossed the park to the medical building.

“Oh, god, you’re not helping,” Stiles moaned, clinging to his arm.

“What?” Peter growled, staring down a group of freshmen who wandered a bit too close for his comfort.

Stiles moaned, the sound making him jerk hard enough that the boy leaning on him almost fell.

“Your eyes,” Stiles whined. “They’ve been red since the classroom.”

Despite the situation, Peter couldn’t stop giving him a grin.

“Is it still hot?”

Stiles dug his fingers into him, replying between gritted teeth, and - impossibly - turning even redder.

“Peter, fuck you, I don’t need to be  _ more  _ turned on.”

Thankfully they reached the door of the infirmary before Peter could do something that he would regret and/or ruin his sister’s reputation.

The nurse inside - Melissa, if he remembered right - took one look at them, and grabbed a key from her desk.

“Hello Professor Hale, hello, Stiles,” she said as she led them towards a door farther in the back of the building.

Peter wanted to ask where they knew each-other from, just to be polite, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

Melissa opened the heavy metal door with a big, red sign claiming it to be the EMERGENCY HEAT ROOM. 

Stiles stopped on the threshold, pulling Peter up short too.

“So” the boy said, eyes already blown with the heat.

“Do you want me in there?” Peter asked. He had a hard time imagining himself not going, but he wasn’t asshole enough not to know that it wasn’t his decision to make.

Stiles licked his lips, looking at him from under long, dark lashes.

“Do you… do you want to come? I mean, I usually don’t put out on the first date… not to mention  _ before  _ that,” he said with a snort, but Peter could feel his hold tightening on his arm.

“You have to tell me, Stiles. I would be happy to, but it’s your call.”

Stiles let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a second, probably trying to decide if he wanted to say was what he wanted, or what his heat wanted.

When he opened them, all Peter could see was naked hunger.

“Yes.”

***

The heatroom was nothing more than bare walls and a bed with a box of supplies by the side of it. Peter grabbed a big bottle of lube from it - just in case - and kicked the rest to the corner; just seeing the knotting dildos in there made his blood boil with rage.

There was only one thing Stiles would need, and he would be sure he got it plenty.

The boy was watching him while shedding his clothes. Now that the door was locked behind them, it looked like he forgot the last of his inhibitions outside - all the usual awkwardness was gone from his movements, and with every inch of skin revealed Peter could feel his cock throb in his pants.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked, unbuttoning his own shirt without looking. It seemed impossible to tear his gaze away from Stiles, so he didn’t even try.

Stiles kicked off his underwear finally, standing in the middle of the little room gloriously naked, his pale skin practically glowing.

“I want to ride you,” he said, voice dropped low enough to stir up Peter’s insides. Oh yes. Yes, he could do that.

He made quick work of the rest of his clothes, watching Stiles. The boy was completely motionless other than his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. It was funny. Most omegas became squirming messes with their heat, but Stiles, who was restless on his best days was like a statue of purpose and controlled need.

“Get on the bed,” the boy told him, voice barely shaking. The sound of it did things to Peter.

He obeyed, not even questioning if he should be taking orders from an omega, not when Stiles was so…  _ awesome _ , in the most formidable sense of the word.

Peter’s back barely hit the scratchy, hospital covers and the boy was already on him, his body hot with the heat, but his fingers strong as he grabbed Peter’s shoulders, like he was afraid he would run away.

He planned to do no such thing.

It felt almost sacrilegious to touch Stiles when he was like this, but he couldn’t stop his hands from finding their place on those slim hips. The boy moaned, eyes fluttering closed when Peter’s thumbs caressed the thin skin above his hip bones.

He didn’t ask if Stiles needed help, he didn’t even have the time, because after the buzz of that first skin-on-skin contact died down the boy was already reaching behind himself, grabbing Peter’s cock with sure hands, lining it up with his hole.

The second the head of his dick touched Stiles’ entrance in a wet kiss Peter had to throw his head back and grit his teeth, his whole body going taunt with the promise of what was coming.

“Shit, yeah,” Stiles growled, “in, in,  _ in… _ ”

Stiles didn’t savor it, didn’t wait for adjustment, he sank down on Peter’s cock like he belonged there, like they’d did this a thousand times before, like he was coming home.

Peter could feel his claws popping, pricking at the skin under his fingertips, but if anything, that just made Stiles’ body tighter around him, gripping his cock in that wonderful, unbelievable heat.

It was Peter who had to ask for time.

“Wait,” he hissed when he realized that Stiles was already rising, his thighs quivering with the strain of keeping still when all he wanted to do was spur into motion, chasing the friction they both desperately needed.

Fuck. Peter was going to come too soon. No matter how eager his boy was, his body needed to get ready for the knot.

Stiles bit off a curse but obeyed, dropping to his elbows and kissing him like Peter’s mouth was his to take.

The boy tasted spicy with the heat and sweet from the strawberry chewing gum he couldn’t get enough of. Peter closed his eyes and opened his lips and let his body go, pulling Stiles closer, stroking up his spine until he could bury his fingers in his hair.

Stiles bit him until his lips opened, his tongue eager and demanding and Peter powerless to deny him anything.

When he felt Stiles’ slick overflowing, dripping down the base of his cock and onto his balls Peter knew they were ready.

“We’re good,” he said in the second Stiles allowed him to breath, and the boy didn’t need anything else. His eyes were almost too dark to be real as he sat up, planting his palms on Peter’s chest and finally - finally - pushing himself up only to drop down again, letting gravity fuck Peter’s cock inside him.

It made both of them moan, Peter’s toes curling and Stiles fingers digging into his pecs, his head thrown back like he was in a divine trance, taking and taking and taking everything the world had to give.

Peter held on, unable to do anything other than let Stiles use him however he saw fit, riding out his pleasure. The boy’s cock was hard and red and leaking precome onto Peter’s belly, making his treasure trail sticky with it.

Everything felt surreal and too much and not enough and not like any heat Peter ever experienced with anyone.

Stiles was moaning constantly, little, punched out gasps every time he sank down, and just hearing them was enough to get Peter’s knot growing, thickening slowly but unstoppable.

“So good,” Stiles told him, his lips red and his cheeks flushed. “Come on, show me.”

“Fuck, you’re a menace,” Peter growled, and on the next exquisite drop down he met Stiles’ body with his hips, fucking up into him with all the power his position allowed.

Stiles whined, voice going high and breathy and Peter would have been happy never hearing any sound again as long as he could keep that one.

It only took a few moments after that for his knot to get stuck, the last push into Stiles’ body hot and tight and overwhelming enough to steal the air from both of their lungs. And then there was nowhere to go.

The boy collapsed onto his chest burying his face in Peter’s neck, nibbling and licking as he shuddered with every spurt of come hitting his insides. Peter squeezed his hips and then reached around the boy to trace the place where they were connected. It wasn’t much - a butterfly of a touch - but it was enough to make Stiles come too, biting down on Peter’s neck as his cock spluttered between them.

“That was something,” Stiles breathed what felt like ages later. Peter smiled against his temple, pulling him closer.

“I will be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever met an omega like you,” he admitted.

Stiles snorted, snuggling in.

“You’ve never met  _ anyone  _ like me, period. Get the facts straight, professor.”

Peter had to concede to that.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at udunie.tumblr.com, also, please leave a comment if you like the fic so far!
> 
> PS Mysenia (mysenia.tumblr.com) is a lovely person who's cute pup is in need of surgery right now, so you know, you should definitely check out her blog if you want to help them out... - I hope this doesn't violate AO3 guidelines, I'm not soliciting anything, just hoping to give a good cause a boost!


End file.
